


Vivid

by Malevelynce



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alcohol-Induced Amnesia, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Minor Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Minor Keith/Lotor (Voltron), Soul-Searching, Soulmates, Underage Drinking, blackout drinking, motorcycle keith, prekerberos shiro, soulmate color blindness, this was supposed to be pretty fluffy but my hand slipped
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2019-11-27 21:41:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18199667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malevelynce/pseuds/Malevelynce
Summary: In a world where hues of gray are your only companion until you find your soulmate, Keith was pretty surprised to wake up with the world blooming in every shade he never could have imagined, but alone, with no knowledge of the night’s events. The search for his soulmate is on, but meeting the love of his life wasn’t the only thing he managed to forget.“Whatever he was, frail-hearted, pathetic, he was undoubtedly in love with someone he couldn’t remember meeting and couldn’t wait to meet again.”





	1. The Morning After

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This work was started before the season 8 release and never expected it to take so long to get it out, especially since I know hype for this fandom has quieted down.  
> Regardless, I hope you enjoy this work, I really had a great time writing it! It's such a fun piece and I'm happy with how it turned out :)  
> Huge shout out to my biggest fan of this work and beta, @communikate <3
> 
> ***For the tagging of Non-con: it is only in mention and not explicitly or specifically displayed within the events of the piece

With a groan, Keith tried to roll over in his bed to escape the light pressing sharply against his eyes, even as he squeezed them closed. But as he rolled over and felt nothing but scratchy carpet against his cheek, he realized with a jarring start that he wasn’t even in his bed.

He would’ve liked to have jumped up and investigated where on earth he was, but as soon as he tried to press his palms into the ground, a wave of nausea hit him. It didn’t help that he was squinting against the harsh morning sun--not that he was even sure it was morning at this point. Taking a deep inhale of the dusty carpet, he swallowed down the bile and managed to get himself sitting up.

God, he didn’t even remember whose party he’d gone to the night before. His head was pounding, his stomach was pressing dangerously against the base of his throat, and his eyes were burning with a stinging ache.

Splaying his legs out in front of him and leaning forward, he scrubbed at his eyes wincing as he tried to open them in the light of wherever the hell he was. He tried to keep his nausea at bay so he could first figure out where he was before he went throwing up on a stranger’s carpet.

As he managed to squint one eye open, the first thing he saw was the splash of a red pillow thrown on top of a dark-brown, leather couch.

With adrenaline and something akin to fear bursting through his veins, he managed to catapult himself to his feet and stumble over to the couch. Picking up the distinctly _red_ pillow in his hands, he bit his lip and felt his breath shuddering in his chest.

Well, he thought it was red, at least. 

No matter what color is was, he could _see_ it. After 20 long years of seeing nothing but mottled and muted greys, the intensity was almost too much to bear, especially while his head was throbbing and his stomach was twisting.

As he dropped the pillow back onto the couch, he looked around, amazed at the intricacies of color that were quite literally everywhere. The light streaming in was a warm buttery yellow and the carpet beneath his feet (one of them socked, the other bare) was a light grey. Out the three large windows, he couldn’t stop the gasp from falling off his lips as he looked outside. 

There was one large weeping willow tree with the most beautiful green leaves he’d ever seen, brushing emerald grass that went on for what looked like miles in a gorgeous backyard. Using his context clues, even with his inhibited mind, he knew he was somewhere very fancy. Somewhere he really wouldn’t be able to pay if he vomited on the carpet.

And definitely somewhere he’d never been before.

He looked around the room, noting that there wasn’t anyone else passed out on the ground, which was a bit concerning, since it meant that either he went into some random room by himself, or someone must have left him there. 

Not that he could really dwell on that now. There was only one door, so he assumed that he was in a sunroom of sorts and figured the rest house was through there. Taking a few steps toward the door, he allowed himself to get drawn in to staring out the windows again, nearly mesmerized at the mirage of colors.

But then reality set in.

He must’ve met his soulmate last night. There was no question there.

Yet, as he sank down onto the couch, cradling his addled head in his hands, he realized that he couldn’t remember a single thing that happened. Everything was dark and muddy, but for the most part, it was just absent. Maybe after he threw up he could focus more on remembering how he got into the house and who the hell owned it.

So, first things first, he had to find a bathroom.

As dumb as it was, he knocked on the door before he pushed it open, not sure what to expect on the other side. It certainly wasn’t what he got. It was very clearly a living room, but the wash of color that positively assaulted his senses took his breath away.

And, well, there was an adult staring at him from his place on the aggressively blue floral couch. Keith had no idea who he was, and worst of all, he hadn’t even considered to check what he was wearing before venturing into the rest of the unknown house. Looking down, he swallowed awkwardly, a blush coating his cheeks. 

He was wearing nothing but red, plaid boxers and a dark green, unzipped hoodie that was definitely not his. And, fuck, was that a hickey above his hip bone? What the hell happened last night? And whose house was he in?

“Oh. Who are you?” The man’s voice was deep and accusatory as he turned the TV on mute and stood up intimidatingly. His eyebrows were furrowed and his jaw was set menacingly as he dragged disapproving eyes up and down his unkempt form.

“I, uh, I’m Keith. Keith Kogane,” he spit out awkwardly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his (possibly stolen) jacket. “Where, um, where am I?”

The man rolled his eyes and folded his arms across his chest, leveling his icy amber glare onto him. “This is the Galzara residence. Now, I suggest you get out of my house before I report you to the police for underage drinking, among other things.”

“O-Of course, sir!” Keith squeaked out, trying to keep the barf down as his anxiety donated to the Make Keith Vomit Fund™. It definitely didn’t help that he didn’t know anyone with that last name.

He tried to walk out of the living room and continue down a narrow hallway to the right, but after only a few steps, Mr. Galzara cleared his throat and pointed to the left before sinking regally back onto the couch. Biting his lip, Keith scurried down the opposite hallway, slapping a hand over his mouth as his stomach violently spasmed.

Not quite running, per say, but maybe doing a light jog, Keith finally made it to what looked like the front door. Scrambling outside, he made it a few steps down the beautifully-tiled walkway before retching behind the roses. 

Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, he noted that his vomit was mostly liquid, probably meaning he hadn’t eaten much of anything the night before. That, of course, must have attributed to the headache still pressing against his eyes.

But, after emptying his stomach twice more (maybe behind different bushes, maybe not, he wasn’t quite certain), he had to admit he was feeling better. The nausea was still lingering, but vomit no longer was pressing against the base of his throat.

One step at a time, though.

Of course, he was practically naked, and surprisingly enough, his phone _wasn’t_ in the pocket of a stranger’s jacket. So he walked down the driveway, extremely self-conscious of his attire even as he zipped up the hoodie.

It was obvious he was in a very rich neighborhood, so that instantly made him nervous to knock on someone’s front door and ask to use their phone. Keith was shaking like a leaf, even in the warm spring air, anxiety gnawing away at him.

But just as he was about to start walking into the neighborhood, a voice stopped him, coming from behind him. “Keith! Fuck. Keith, wait!”

Turning with wide eyes, Keith looked frantically around behind him. He couldn’t see anyone but he thought one of the upper windows of the house was open (although he had no clue whether or not it had been open before he walked out of the house). Regardless, after a few moments, he turned back around and started walking down the street, away from the house he’d woken up in.

He’d hardly made it more than ten paces down the street when he heard the same voice, out of breath and panicked, “Keith!”

And this time when he turned around, Lotor was standing in the doorway of, presumably, his house. His long white hair was a mess and he was shirtless, his sweatpants riding low on his hips. Lotor started walking down the walkway while a confused Keith padded back up the driveway.

“God, Keith, did you really sleep here all night?” Lotor asked, a smirk on his lips and on hand on his hip.

Keith awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. “Oh, I, uh, guess so? If I’m being honest, I don’t remember much of last night,” he trailed off, looking to the ground. “I didn’t even know this was your house, dude.” When he brought his eyes back up to meet Lotor’s amber ones, he noticed the resemblance to who he assumed was his father that Keith had met earlier.

He also noticed the couple hickeys on Lotor’s neck. With his skin prickling, he remembered the hickey resting above his hip bone.

Lotor wasn’t quite a friend, really, if Keith was being honest. They were much closer to acquaintances than anything else. Maybe they’d had a class or two together freshman year, but he definitely remembered hanging out with him at some party and thinking they might go home together. That was, of course, before Keith found out that Lotor was a pretentious asshole who only wanted one thing. 

Now, Keith was afraid that he’d gotten just that last night. 

“I thought everyone left when my dad got home and flipped out, but I guess not,” he replied with a dark chuckle. Keith must have shown his confusion on his blank face because Lotor grimaced and put a hand on his shoulder. “You really don’t remember a thing, do you?”

Keith sighed and nodded. “But, uh, Lotor, I—” he cut his words off, biting his lip, unable to ignore the vibrant green of the grass and pops of color that surrounded him. No matter how uncomfortable it made him, he knew he had to say something. “I met my soulmate last night but I don’t know who it is!” he managed to squeak out awkwardly.

Lotors eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open. “Oh, well, it’s not me, dude.” 

Keith tried not to make his sigh of relief too obvious.

“I don’t even know who you were hanging out with, but when we hooked up, you didn’t mention anything about seeing in color. I assumed you left after that but it looks like you didn’t . . .”

Keith could feel the color drain from his face as he forced the words out tentatively, “We . . . hooked up?” His entire body was a tense rubber band, feeling as though he could snap at any moment.

With a smirk Lotor nodded. “I had a good time, and it sounded like you did too.” He let a light laugh fall off his lips as he put his hands on his hips and continued, “But don’t worry, pretty boy, we just made out and you ended up giving me a handjob, nothing too serious.”

Keith let out the tiniest breath. His shoulders stayed taught, raised to his ears. “Oh. So you don’t know what happened before or after that?”

“No idea, and I left you with your clothes on, so someone else must have been responsible for that,” he said, waving a finger up and down Keith’s half-naked form. “Not that I would have been upset going for round two, mind you.”

Blushing and extremely uncomfortable, Keith didn’t know whether or not he was glad he couldn’t remember any of his interaction with Lotor. “Uh, well, thanks for the info? I guess?” His words were quiet and nervous, the atmosphere suffocating.

“Sure thing, sorry I wasn’t more helpful,” Lotor replied with a small grin. “I can give you a ride home, though. You look like you could use it.” His eyes dropped to look at Keith’s feet, who had one (1) sock and no shoes on.

Keith sheepishly smiled and nodded his thanks, stuffing his hands into the green jacket, his only clue that might link him to his soulmate. With a slight huff, he realized how flawed the whole soul system was, based upon sight and color vision. It was romantic in theory, that one’s life could never be as vivid as those without their soulmates, but if it was practical, he wouldn’t have been in his situation.

Well, whatever. Meeting his soulmate at 20 was pretty early, in the grand scheme of things, but he would’ve gladly waited another few years and avoided this sort of mess. 

Pushing that aside, he climbed into Lotor’s car. He had to admit that sitting down made him realize just how much his muscles were aching. Whether that had to do with the drinking or whatever the hell he ended up doing the night before he couldn’t know. Additionally, the dizzying feeling that accompanied the nausea was slowly starting to subside with the cool air blowing on him.

Mumbling another word of thanks, Keith typed his address into Lotor’s phone and started up maps. His eyes widened as he noticed it would take almost 25 minutes to get back to his apartment. “Jesus, dude, why would I come all the way out here for a party?”

Lotor laughed and rolled his eyes as he pulled out of his neighborhood. “Because the Holt’s were hosting it first? Not sure what happened, but Allura asked me if they could move the party to my place, and I said yes.” His shrug was nonchalant and dismissive, keeping Keith from asking more prying questions. He would just have to ask Pidge or Matt himself.

They listened to Lotor’s spotify (premium, as if he would expect anything else) playlist, consisting mostly of alternative rock and new-age EDM. The aggressive, loud songs left little room for conversation, but Keith managed to glean a few new pieces of the puzzle.

1) The party at the Holt’s had started around 6 was intended to mark Matt’s last weekend of freedom before he started his summer internship  
2) The party was moved to Lotor’s house around 10:30  
3) After it was moved to his house, Lotor didn’t see Matt or Pidge at all  
4) It seemed like there were a lot more people at Lotor’s house than there had been in the Holt’s apartment

It wasn’t a lot to work with, but if Keith and Lotor had hooked up at his house, than that meant he must have met his soulmate at Lotor’s house. That also meant he couldn’t rely on the headcount that Matt or Pidge may have been able to provide him about the original party.

It was going to be a process, that much he knew.

As Lotor pulled up to Keith’s apartment building, he hopped out of the car nervously, hoping his neighbors didn’t think too lowly of him, coming home from a party at 1 in the afternoon wearing a jacket and boxers.

“Thanks, Lotor. I really appreciate the ride.”

“It’s not a problem, pretty boy. See you around,” Lotor replied with a wink.

Keith tried to smile but it probably seemed more like a grimace, especially since standing so quickly sent a wave of dizziness over him. A little awkwardly, he nodded and squeaked out before closing the door, “Yep. If you find my phone, you can call Matt or Pidge and I’ll come out and grab it from you.”

Waving a little sheepishly, Keith scurried inside his building. He avoided the elevator in fear of being stuck with someone he knew and climbed the three flights of stairs instead. As soon as he rested his fingers on his doorknob, dread washed over him. Patting at “his” jacket pockets frantically, he could feel his anxiety crawling up his throat.

With a groan, he slammed his forehead into his door. He didn’t have his keys. It seemed like the shit he was having to deal with was just piling up. It started out, of course, waking up in a stranger’s house, not knowing who his soulmate was. And then he couldn’t find his phone. And now his keys were nowhere to be found. 

There was little else he could imagine that would make this day worse for him.

With that thought, his blood pressure skyrocketed and suddenly he was sprinting down the stairs, not a care in the world of who saw him in his boxers. Pushing out the back door of his apartment building, he rushed into the tiny parking lot behind it. He swore to god if his bike wasn’t there he was going to sue the universe for giving him the worst fucking luck.

Almost collapsing in joy, Keith had to put his hands on the seat of his motorcycle and take a few deep breaths, unbelievably glad he hadn’t been stupid enough to drive it anywhere the night before. Feeling the firm leather of the bike brought back his senses.

As he fished his spare apartment key from the small storage space behind his seat, he took a moment to simply look around him. It was all so novel, the idea of color. Certainly, he’d expected to be enjoying his new vibrant world in a different context (i.e, staring at the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen, or enjoying the shade of his soulmate’s lips after being pressed against his own), but looking at the sleek red design of his motorcycle brought forth a sense of joy unlike many others he’d experienced. 

He definitely liked the look of red. Confident. Bold. Powerful. It was a strange feeling, having a favorite color after twenty years of black and white. He decided that he liked it.

After staring at his bike for a bit longer than one might consider normal, he held his apartment key tightly in his hand, taking hold in the feeling of the metal biting into his skin. With his head still aching and his stomach not completely calm, it would definitely be nice to get back into his apartment.

His fucking _hideous_ apartment.

The couch that dominated the small living space was a faux leather that was a dulled orange that shared similarities with the insides of a pumpkin. And that would have been fine if it weren’t for the fuchsia shag rug under it and the off-white coffee table that in no way matched the cream of the dresser the TV was set on.

Horrified, Keith tentatively walked into his bedroom. The three pillows on his bed were all different shades of red. The comforter made a fourth. While it didn’t necessarily clash, it wasn’t pleasant at all.

It was weird, he thought, that he somehow trusted his instinct on what the colors were. He’d been seeing them his whole life, hearing the words, been told what colors things were while they remained black and grey and white. It all came rushing at him at once.

Throwing himself into his pile of varying reds, he let out a groan. If he wasn’t sure of it before, he knew now that he’d definitely engaged in some promiscuous activity. His hips were aching and his knees were surprisingly sore. So, his soulmate was probably a guy (thank the gay gods).

But, what didn’t quite make sense was how he and his soulmate were separated. If they ended up hooking up during the night, what made him leave? And since he didn’t have any of his belongings, who did?

Another groan escaped his lips as he buried his face further into his pillow. For right now, those questions were going to remain unanswered and there wasn’t much he could do about it. The pull of exhaustion was dragging him further and further away from the colored world, and soon enough, everything was dark.


	2. Coming Out of the Dark

He woke up to a raucous pounding. At first he wasn’t sure where it was coming from, his eyes squinting open to fading sunlight and the stark crimson of the pillow he was drooling on. And then everything came crashing back into him.

His soulmate. Lotor. The party. His soulmate. Color. Blackout drinking. Hickeys. His soulmate.

And the knocking at his front door. Stumbling out of bed, Keith opened his door, squinting at whoever was so impatient to see him. Of course, his hair was probably a mess and he was still only wearing a pair of boxers and a stolen jacket, so he was glad it was none other than Matt on the other side of the door.

“Jesus, you look awful,” Matt said, pushing himself into Keith’s apartment without any sort of a greeting. It was nice, he had to admit, to be able to take note of Matt’s orange-y brown hair and pale skin, a stark contrast to the way he’d seen him in black and white.

Yawning, Keith rubbed at his eye and plopped down on his ugly couch. “Nice to see you too.”

“I wanted to talk about last night,” he said, his mood drooping as he sat next to Keith, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Me too, man.” A pause. “I don’t remember very much of it at all,” Keith confided, running his fingers through his hair, attempting to make it look at least presentable, especially when the rest of his outfit didn’t quite measure up.

Matt swallowed, looking away. “Oh. Okay. Well, uh, yeah. You seemed pretty . . . determined to get wasted after we told you the news.”

Keith immediately stopped combing his hair. With wide, imploring eyes he waited for Matt to tell him what he’d forgotten. Grimacing, Matt looked away from him, wringing his hands in his lap.

“Shiro decided to accept the Kerberos mission. So, uh, instead of going for my internship, my dad, Shiro, and I will be going into space. In three weeks.”

And it was like all the air left Keith’s lungs. His blood turned to ice and his muscles tensed so hard they hurt. “He <i>what</i>?”

Matt began to explain the mission in a soft and calming voice, as if he didn’t know what Keith meant. “I swear the fucking idiot has a goddamn death wish,” he muttered, anger rolling off him in waves. “Give me your phone,” Keith demanded, holding his hand out.

Raising his eyebrows, Matt frowned a little sadly. “Maybe you should wait a little bit to talk to him in person, Keith. I think--”

“Give me the damn phone!” he screamed, fingers flexing almost painfully, still outstretched toward Matt, unable to hold back his seething anger.

Rising to meet Keith’s mood, Matt yelled back, “Adam broke up with him!” His voice made Keith flinch, his hand curling back. “If he needed <i>another</i> negative opinion, I’d gladly give you my phone. But he doesn’t. Not right now.”

Keith licked his lips awkwardly and took a deep breath, trying to allow at least a few moments for the wash of new information to sink in. Letting out a sigh, he leaned back into the couch, hoping his anger would dissipate. 

Emotions churned in his stomach, too many to count. Of course he was angry that Shiro had decided to risk his life on this mission, especially without consulting him first. But it was also permeated by sadness. 

More than that, devastation sat like a rock, knowing that there was no way he’d be able to make the last three weeks he’d probably ever get with Shiro worth it. Worth the joy that he’d brought into Keith’s life.

“Three weeks, huh?”

Nodding, Matt pulled his knees up on the couch, resting his head back. A few moments passed in tense, digestive silence.

With a sigh, he knew he didn’t want his mind on Shiro any longer. 

“In other news, I found my soulmate last night,” Keith dropped without any sort of fanfare, slipping his hands into the pockets of the jacket that probably belonged to him.

“Ha. Ha,” Matt said, deadpanning with a slight eye roll. But when he brought his gaze back up to Keith, he realized with a start that he wasn’t joking. “Woah, wait, you’re serious? Holy shit, who is it?” He was suddenly close to Keith’s face, pushed forward on his hands, eyes wide and a smile tugging at his lips.

Keith shrugged, trying not to show the depth of his emotion as he responded, “I-I don’t know. Blackout drinking kinda has that effect on people, I guess.”

And then Matt was shaking his shoulders, his eyes bright. “I’ll help! This is going to be so romantic! Finding your soulmate after 20 years of searching only to be driven apart by the cruel hand of fate! And drinking, I guess. But I, Matthew Holt, will help you reunite with your soulmate!” His voice took on the sort of quality that made Keith roll his eyes, but he was glad someone was willing to help him.

It also took his mind off the fact that his oldest friend was going to abandon him in three weeks time, and that would most likely be the last time he’d ever see him.

“All I know is that this is probably his jacket--”

“Wait a second, how do you know your soulmate is a boy?” Matt asked, already confused.

Keith opened his mouth but closed it again. He could feel the flush on his cheeks as he looked sideways and mumbled, “My knees are sore.”

Matt’s jaw fell open before he burst out laughing, Keith’s face heating with a blush he couldn’t hide. “Well, good to know that there was some chemistry there, I guess!” Even though the two had been friends for years, they didn’t really talk about their sex life or romance in general. Admittedly, Keith didn’t really talk about that sort of stuff with anyone at all.

But, he’d tell Matt anything in order to find his soulmate.

“And I’m super gay so it’d be really disappointing if my soulmate <i>was</i> a girl. But, that matter aside, I think this is his jacket, and I hope he has my phone or my keys or something,” Keith told him, rubbing his thumb over the hem of the obviously well-loved jacket.

Slipping his phone out of his pocket, Matt unlocked it and tapped on the calling feature, handing it over to Keith. “Why don’t you try calling yourself?”

Keith honestly felt like such an idiot that he didn’t think about that sooner, but he was going to blame his hungover brain for that lapse in judgement. And, he would have had to ask someone in his apartment to use their phone, and there was no way he would have ventured out with how he was feeling, even if it was just across the hall.

Stupidly nervous, he dialed his own number and pressed the phone against his cheek with trembling fingers.

“Keith?”

His heart stopped in his chest. Anxiety was thrumming in his veins, his heartbeat rushing in his ears. The voice was deep and sensual.

And familiar.

“Lotor.”

Matt nearly shit himself. His eyes almost popped out of his head and he leaned forward on the couch, mouth hanging open. Leveling a stare, Keith raised a single eyebrow and shook his head, trying to signal that Lotor was anything but his soulmate. Matt hardly seemed to believe him.

“Ah, okay, good. I thought this was your phone and I was going to call Matt but I realized I didn’t have his number saved so I was on track to get that from someone else when you called,” he explained. “You can come over and grab it whenever is convenient for you.”

“Okay, thanks, Lotor,” Keith responded simply, hanging up and tossing the phone back at Matt before burying his face into the sofa. “I’m exhausted, Matt. I just wanna find my soulmate and be done with it.”

With a pitiful look, Matt patted Keith on shoulder gently. “It’ll all work out, man. Don’t worry too much.” Then, after a moment, “How do you know Lotor isn’t your soulmate?”

Groaning, Keith turned his face out of the couch and replied, “He told me this morning. When I woke up on the floor in his sunroom.”

Matt fell into another fit of laughter, all sympathy drained from his gaze. “I knew you went hard, but damn, man, that’s intense.”

“I can’t believe I don’t even remember meeting my soulmate . . . And how the fuck did I <i>lose</i> him?” Keith sighed, agitated with his own stupidity.

“Well, I’m sure he’s out there looking for you too, so we’ll definitely find him,” Matt tried to comfort, his voice soft yet determined. “But, uh, before we get on that, maybe you should take a shower, dude.” His nose wrinkled as Keith slapped Matt with one of the ugly couch pillows, stifling a laugh.

Matt decided to go home and grab his sister (“the little genius can probably help”) and some food while Keith took a shower. That was where Keith really examined the handiwork of his soulmate. In addition to the hickey above his hip bone that he’d noticed that morning, there were faint, yellow-ish fingerprint bruises cradling his ass, which was positive signs of one thing, if his soreness in the morning hadn’t been enough to convince him.

Brushing his fingers over them gently, a knot of arousal bloomed in the pit of his stomach, his body remembering something his mind had forgotten. Trying to shake the feeling off, Keith allowed reality to sink into him, the magnitude of everything he learned in the past few hours suffocating him.

Shiro. Matt. Mr. Holt. While it was only certain death for one of them, there was also a chance that none of them would come back. Not one. Perhaps in three weeks Pidge and Colleen would be saying their final goodbye to the other half of their family. Perhaps in three weeks Keith would be saying his final goodbye to the only person who had treated him like family. 

Or maybe they would all come back. Maybe everything would be fine. Keith laughed at that, couldn’t help the ugly snort from passing through his lips at the sheer hilarity of the thought. Shiro knew it as well as everyone else that this was going to be his last mission.

And Adam obviously hadn’t wanted his heart to get too mangled in the process of watching his boyfriend throw his life away.

That horrifyingly crushing realization that maybe Keith would only have three weeks left with his best friends was combated by the pure exhilaration at seeing the tint of blue to his shampoo and the pale green of his soap. His soulmate was probably the only thing keeping him going, the only thing keeping his thoughts from swirling into an unimaginable pit of despair and loneliness.

So, there was that.

Regardless of what his mind wanted him to focus on, Keith finished up in the shower and threw on some clean clothes. Just as he was about to leave his bedroom, he hesitated in the doorway. Looking back, he saw the hunter green jacket crumpled on the ground outside of the bathroom. If he really had stolen it, that wasn’t anyway to treat someone else’s jacket, right? 

Picking it up, he brought the jacket close and took a deep inhale without really meaning to, taking in the musty scent of cinnamon and pine. He felt like he should have been embarrassed, but as he slipped into the jacket, he just felt comforted.

It felt like he’d hardly has a moment alone when Matt and Pidge knocked on his door. Keith didn’t even get to say anything when Matt, once again, barged in, his mouth already running, “I totally forgot to ask earlier, but am I cuter in color? I’m sure I am but I just want to hear someone say it.”

As much as Keith enjoyed being Matt’s friend, he and Pidge shared a deep moment of connection as they looked into each others eyes and sighed, exhausted of the boy’s shenanigans. “I think you’re plenty cute either way, Matt. But unfortunately I’ve got a cuter boy on my mind that I need help finding.”

And with that, Pidge pulled out her laptop, sort of a scary sight when all Keith was hoping for was some information about who was invited to the party. The girl sat criss-cross on the couch and immediately started talking, cutting off Matt’s frustrated protests about his colorblind self and his level of cute.

“So, I compiled a list of everyone I personally saw and then I narrowed it down to boys that I personally saw, color-coded for <i> _ your _ </i> convenience, so here’s this for you to look over and see if you’ve ever met these guys before. Now, we could go door to door and ask everyone on this list that you haven’t met before if they’ve lost their soulmate, or we could do a little bit of, well, let’s say investigating,” Pidge described, her words falling out of her mouth faster than Keith could quite keep up with. “Of course, I didn’t go to Lotor’s, though, so we can only hope that your soulmate is one of the ones who were at both halves of the party.”

Blinking a few times, he slowly nodded and sat down next to Pidge to look at the list of of names, and true to her words, girls were in pink, boys in blue, and a few names, like Pidge’s own, were in green. “O-okay, well I’ve never met, uh, Hunk, Lance, Rolo--oh wait that’s wrong, I did meet Rolo at a party or something last year, but uh, I haven’t met Regris, or . . .” the list continued until they had a compilation of eleven names that hopefully Keith’s soulmate was hiding in.

“Katie,” Matt started with a cautionary tone, “what kind of ‘investigating’ are you planning on doing?”

She giggled, a bit fearsome given the question she was asked. “Nothing more than a background check to ascertain they don’t have their soulmate yet and then I’ll pull up some pictures to see if anyone jogs Keith’s memory and then we’ll find phone numbers and ya know, the usual stuff,” she responded casually.

“Right,” Keith said with a light laugh, nervousness on the tip of his tongue. If Pidge really could lead him toward finding his soulmate, he didn’t truly care how personally invasive she was going to be. Even after just one day of seeing in color, he was exhausted without his soulmate by his side. He’d give anything to keep the aching feeling of loneliness from creeping up on him.

Soon enough, Pidge was turning her laptop around so Keith could see it too, showing a blown-up picture of someone he didn’t recognize. He didn’t miss the look that passed between the siblings as they realized he had no idea who the guy was.

“Dude, you literally had like a twenty minute conversation with him last night,” Matt prompted with a skeptical look. When Keith responded with only a blank look, he shook his head and sighed. “Hunk? Ringing any bells? I’m pretty sure you guys geeked out about galaxy formation theories.”

“I literally have never seen his face before in my life,” Keith responded bluntly, staring into the honeyed chocolate of his eyes and the warmth of his smile. He was a stranger. “I don’t think this is him, though I’m not sure why.”

Matt groaned, “This is going to be harder than I thought.”

“No shit,” Keith muttered, running his hands through his hair and slumped backwards into the couch. “I know I’m seeing in color but everything feels so faded and dull without him.”

Pidge gaped, blinking at him a few times. “Finding your soulmate really changes people, huh?”

Immediately, Keith turned bright red, looking away and crossing his arms. He opened his mouth to protest but just ended up closing it again as the siblings started laughing. “You’ve already gone soft and you’ve known your soulmate for less than 24 hours,” Matt chuckled, covering his mouth as he marveled at Keith, a mess of emotions on the couch.

Pidge regained her composure, trying not to think about the ruinous state of her friend. She clicked to the next picture, hoping to see a spark of recognition in Keith’s full eyes.

There was nothing remotely familiar about the face staring back at him, but somehow, he felt a wave of comfort wash over him as he gazed into the sea-blue eyes on the screen. 

“I don’t remember him either.”

Collectively, the siblings groaned and it soon became a constant theme for the next nine photos he was showed. The only one that Keith could remember foggily from his pieces of the night before was someone named Kolivan who reminded him of his uncle, so he was definitely not his soulmate.

At the end of the processional, Keith decided it was high time for a snack, walking slightly shakily into the kitchen. He could hear quiet arguing about which of the candidates was most likely to actually be his soulmate as Keith grabbed the box of cheerios from the cabinet and a bowl. It might have been dinner time, but he couldn’t remember the last thing he’d eaten, so cereal it was going to be.

Bringing his bowl into the living room, he flopped back into the couch with a sigh. “This is going to be impossible. I should just post ‘lost soulmate’ signs around the block and wait for a call.”

They mulled over options but Keith thought it would be weird for the Holt’s to host a fucked up version of the bachelor just for him to find his soulmate. But it would also be extremely uncomfortable for Keith to call each boy and deadass ask if they had lost their soulmate. For the time being, the trio decided that maybe his soulmate would try and get in contact with the hosts of the party similarly to how Keith had.

Regardless of what the future held, he was exhausted and had decided that he wasn’t going to pursue any sort of action until later in the week. Plus, he still had to pick up his phone from Lotor. As disappointing as it was, Keith ushered the two out of his apartment with a soft, sad smile.

“Thank you both so much, I really appreciate all the help.”

“Not a problem, Keith!” Pidge told him with a smile, bright and caring.

Matt rested a gentle hand on his shoulder and reassured him that everything was going to be okay. Keith leaned into his touch with an exhausted sigh and nodded, unconvinced.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading <3  
> The next chapter should be out in a week or so :)


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